Mirror, Mirror
by Villain
Summary: Youko finally acts on his dark desires... Youko/Kurama M/M, Lemon, Yaoi, NC, SI, D/s, MC, N/C, PWP, SI


WARNING: This is surreal noncon. Um, deal with it? : D

...

MIRROR, MIRROR

He could carry his own schoolbooks, surely. Granted, he came off as feminine, but that did not authorize Yusuke's monopolizing the brunt of weight to and from school. It was embarrassing-and amusing-to walk beside Yusuke as he struggled to hold all of Kurama's books. The amount was above average, even when Yusuke didn't include his own books in the stack.

"You just keep walking in front of me and I'll be fine," Yusuke assured the redhead with a lecherous wink.

And yet he still indulged the detective.

"I've earned at least a kiss for all this manual labor," he whined, pleading at the threshold of Kurama's bedroom door. The kitsune had one hand firmly planted in the middle of Yusuke's chest. And Yusuke had *his* hands firmly gripping the redhead's slim waist. There was no letting go either; not until he got a little taste of the fox.

"Yusuke, I have plenty of homework to keep me busy."

He motioned to himself, flabbergasted. "You choose paper work over this?"

A bemused kitsune untangled himself from the grasping teen, pursing his lips as Yusuke managed to grab his hands and twist their hold so that Kurama was close against him. When a leg nudged up between his thighs, Kurama mumbled, "As much as I would love to indulge in your carnal desires-"

" 'Homework is top priority now, Yusuke'. I know." Turning the fox and gently pushing against the door frame, Yusuke leaned in and caught a protesting mouth. The redhead's lips gave under his and he licked at the flushed mouth, heavy lidded eyes drinking in the sight of trembling lashes on a pale cheek. His hands nestled in fine hair, gingerly twisting into a tight hold. He pulled Kurama back as he withdrew, the fox gasping a little as Yusuke ground their hips together.

"Oh-"

"Yeah, I know. 'Oh, Yusuke!' I know the drill." Conjuring up a convincing smile, he ran his fingers through velvet strands, leaving the kitsune with a lingering kiss before slipping out the door. At the head of the stairs he looked back at the slightly rumpled Kurama, whose stained cheeks mirrored the flushed heat in green eyes. Sighing, Yusuke turned away, waving idly before trotting down the staircase.

Biting his lip, Kurama ran to the stair and called down to the boy, "One day soon, I promise." He waited anxiously until Yusuke came back into view.

Smirking, Yusuke winked up at the redhead. "You're worth waiting for, you tease."

Long after Yusuke had run up the stairs to give Kurama one last kiss, the kitsune sat idly playing with the worn gray eraser on his desk. Three hours, maybe four if he did the extra credit. Sighing, he rubbed his eyes. Taking extra classes wasn't such a laborious thing, but it was cutting into what he had dubbed "Yusuke time". Luckily, it was mainly Literature homework, his favorite. Glancing at the clock, Kurama blew a column of air between his lips, watching a strand of hair lazily sway. It was hard to concentrate. His body still felt Yusuke pressed against it. The boy's jean jacket (he had skipped school again that day to go to the arcade) had been rough against his cotton uniform.

Glancing into the long mirror stretching up from his desk, Kurama pondered the analytical question about Hamlet's famous soliloquy. 'To be or not to be...'

"That's quite a question," Kurama mused. The mad prince of Shakespeare's creation appeared in the eye of Kurama's mind. Hamlet may have plagued himself with these questions, but they never really applied. To Kurama, as a being in between two lives, such a question haunted his dreams. What was he to be? Or not to be? A dangerous fox spirit, or the kind human boy Suuichi? He looked closely into the mirror. His light flickered. Dashes of black covered the mirror surface, cutting into his face. Kurama's brows furrowed; he'd changed the bulb just last week. Looking questioningly back at his own reflection, Kurama noticed shadows gathered in the corners of his room. The light was considerably dimmer. Now he saw how dark it was outside. If he didn't get his homework done soon, his mother would be home. Tonight he wanted to have dinner prepared for his family by the time they all arrived from work and school.

Squinting at the neat scrawl of his handwriting, Kurama scratched at his temple with the round end of his pencil. One strip of hair flipped into his eyes and he blew it out of his face, brushing it behind his ear.

He paused, eyes fixed on the mirror.

Setting his pencil down, Kurama touched the glass. He looked behind him, then slowly returned his gaze to the neutral reflection staring back at him. Something in the mirror...?

When the light went out, Kurama's face was very close to the glass. His hand was still on it when misty white light filled the mirror and swirled beautifully. Jerking back, flinching as the eerie sheen gently alighted on his walls and floor, Kurama stared speechless as his own frightened reflection was replaced by a white face surrounded by silver hair. Sparkling, laughing golden eyes speared through the glass where his green eyes were. Kurama reeled in surprise, and ended up on the floor, legs crumpled beneath him. He felt sapped of strength as he glared up at the transparent specter.

"Suuichi, get to your feet."

His voice was dry, brittle. "Y-Youko." It came out as a mere husk.

"Stand up."

Gathering his wits about him, shredded though they were, Kurama slowly rose, aware of each muscle and joint lending its purpose to the goal of standing upright. When he did stand, he was decidedly unsteady. "Why are you here?" A bare husk again. He wouldn't have been so disconcerted if only the fog wasn't centering in his mind.

A cold little smile. From that smile, still as death; "To see *you*, Suuichi."

His body was still there, and he was obviously thinking, even if his head felt light. "How are you doing this?" Good, his voice was returning.

Slender hands rose from the murk and Youko placed one delicate fist under his chin in a thoughtful gesture. With his other hand he petted the line of his tunic. "So many questions." The mouth on the demon did not move. From the mirror, Youko watched Suuichi's pallor drain. "I am here now to see you. To hear your lovely voice speak to me. We have never conversed, Suuichi. Only as echoes."

His bed was too far away to lean on. Kurama focused on Youko. He spoke with some effort, articulating each word carefully. "What nature of conversation could we carry on. We see through the same set of eyes."

The towering white being seemed amused. He chortled, "Oh no. A greater lie was never spoken. I see you in a very different light."

Answering automatically, Kurama blurted out, "We are the same person, the same identity."

"Then why, Suuichi, do I lust after you?"

His eyes grew wide, lips trembling. "Youko..."

"My only desire for the past seventeen years," he breathed heavily, the ivory lips finally shaping the words. And the sound was like the deep bellied chiming of glass bells. "You look beautiful. I wish I could touch you, and make you feel what it is to truly become one."

By instinct against danger, his mind fought the foggy confusion. Kurama took a derivative step back, knee straining to keep the leg straight. "I have no wish to partake in your dreams." A name blared behind his eyes. He felt reassured. That name answered everything, concluded all wonderings. "I love Yusuke."

Disgust, sharp and pungent as a strong odor. "A human delinquent. He has no appreciation for you, Suuichi. His animal desires are limited." Fingers flexed under a strong chin, almost purring as the vicious nails glinted in the sheen of mist inside the glass world.

"And yours are any different?" Kurama shot back, glaring.

Youko seemed to grow and fill the mirror. "They are stronger."

"No matter their strength; you are in that mirror, in my mind-"

One long finger waved hypnotically back and forth, back and forth. "Suuichi, my powers are greater than yours."

An odd fluttering feeling spread inside his chest, like the spreading frost over a stone. And to Kurama's great surprise, his arm lifted from his side. He tried to lower it, finally uttering a frustrated and scared cry. No more could he lower the limb than raise the other to hold it. Muscles were working the same as they did involuntarily in the doctor's office when the doctor would check reflex. But at the same time, he was aware that the movements were controlled. Fear flared under his burning brow, hot and stifling.

"The pleasures of sharing a mind with one so endowed with beauty," Youko offered as explanation, grinning when a small hand waggled as Kurama stared at it, abashed.

"This evil thing must stop!" He strained wildly, a fox caught in a cage too small. "Youko, let me go... please..."

"Quiet now, little one." White finger resting against only slightly pinkish lips.

Kurama's mouth snapped painfully shut, his teeth cracking together. Round green eyes cried, angry tears tottering on the edge of shivering lids. One slipped to the end of a delicately curved lash. Youko focused on it there, the salty pearl of his dear Suuichi's pain preserved perfectly.

"My thoughts command you now, Suuichi," he informed the redhead calmly. "You'll do what I think. A dream come to life." Crossing his arms, Youko bowed his head, piercing eyes gazing evilly up at Suuichi from under white brows. His dear Suuichi looked betrayed, his entire frame shaking under the mental bindings. Beads of sweat lingered on sloping skin. Youko purred.

Hands that were attached to him but not his own stroked across his chest and wandered innocently over his face. Fingers playfully picked at the fastenings of his shirt and danced over the ties on his pants. Silent tears-his own tears-ran down cheeks stained with exhaustion. His mouth opened convulsively to wetly gasp as the simple cotton of his cloth grew in a pile on the floor.

And Youko's resounding voice, otherworldly, became thick with undisguised lust. He praised his prize, desire heating his heavy gaze. "Draw down your pants, Suuichi," he whispered encouragingly, churning with pleasure as the boy pushed his pants down from his waist. The skin revealed was flushed deliciously, but even redder were the twin blots of red on the sculpted ridges of the boy's cheeks. Glistening wet lashes striped soft skin below Suuichi's eyes, white teeth biting down on a trembling lower lip. Good enough to eat, Youko thought, mentally guiding slow hands up to pinch a responsive nipple. Twist. Dear Suuichi cried out then. Youko gave him back his voice, if only to hear his pleading.

"Youko... stop it. No!" Fingers arched. "Ah!"

"On your knees." And the boy fell, head thrown forward in bowed shame, emerald pools shaded behind lids. But Youko wanted to see them. Suuichi's head snapped up, violent red hair flying and slipping around his face. Green eyes shot like sweet poison into Youko's gaze, red lips filled with blood shaped his name, whispered pleas reaching his sensitive ears. Then a terrible seizure hit Suuichi and he arched into the air, lifting his hips to jut at awkward angles. Sweet little hands rubbed the skin of his milky thighs, moving closer to the treat Youko's eyes violated lustily. Red hair like strands of blood embraced a slender back, thin shoulders moved with the motions of hurried hands. Rushed fingers stabbed between Suuichi's spread legs, caressing, massaging, stroking, pulling, jerking. That golden voice uttered forced cries and choked sobs. Youko heard the sounds of pleasure hidden behind the unwilling words.

Kurama's eyes fluttered and he felt the heat and stifling pressure overwhelming him under Youko's smothering gaze.

"Suuichi," whispered huskily, golden eyes glowing.

He'd done this to Yusuke before, in dark theaters during boring action films, and sometimes late at night in the park. Kurama had given Yusuke a hand job once while Yusuke returned the favor, and they'd jerked each other off simultaneously. Now he watched his hand wrap itself around his own cock, like a possessed thing because he fiercely willed it not to, and began rhythmically jerking himself off. Immediately little uncontrolled sounds issued from his mouth. Youko was a white ghost in his vision, quietly egging him on, urging him with near orgasmic fury to move faster, jerk harder, take himself over the edge into ecstasy. His ragged breaths were coming out as moans, eyes seemingly sealed shut by flowing tears. Sweat dribbled down the side of his face, and slid languidly down his chest. Jaunty hips thrust and twisted, Youko's control tightening as his own control slipped away from him, ever further. And the pleasure of complete abandon overtook him. The tight, jarring heat centered at his core was deafening, hurting, and maddening. Harder the invisible commanded. Make yourself cum for me, he heard without hearing. His tongue darted out to taste his own sweat, sharp and salty. Kurama groaned angrily, brows crinkling with the effort to climax. He pushed himself frenziedly through his own hands, mouth open wide, head thrown back. *Harder*, Youko's eyes blazed with fire. "No," the whisper starts as the spiraling heat and pain get louder.

Youko gnashed his teeth as the redhead complied. Gold eyes tasted the boy's pleasure, his stifling strain. Suuichi writhed in front of him, pleading both for freedom and release, helpless in his ecstasy. And Youko only wanted more.

When his finger prodded at his opening, Kurama shook his head wildly, not even noticing that he shook it on his own. "No, stop it!" The digit slipped in and he twisted, near screaming when that spot was rubbed and teased, his cock pulsing wetly between his working fingers. His eyes were squeezed shut, breath frantic behind clenched teeth. Horrible weak sounds crowded out of his mouth, spilling into Youko's hungry ears as he continued to plead and praise. "Youko," he cried, "Youko, let me go!" Moans mingled with the words, falsifying their urgency.

What an erotic picture, Youko mused, eyes heavy lidded, murky with lust. My Suuichi pleasuring himself like a whore, all for me. "Do it," he hissed, "Finish yourself for me, my love. Have your little death just for me. Split yourself, love. Look into my eyes, Suuichi, and be all mine."

His hand gripped harder, shoving and yanking on his red cock as his fist pummeled his prostate mercilessly. Kurama writhed wildly, Youko's commands filling his mind like the fanfare of off tune trumpets. And while he tore at himself and pushed at himself, Kurama felt the control lift for that miraculous second to allow his explosion. Heat shot from his beating erection and coated his fingers and his injected digits instinctually pressed inside of him.

As he came crashing down, holding his hands away from himself desperately, Kurama sobbed, red streaks of hair splitting his face and cutting his chest. But the fleeting freedom evaporated as Youko took hold once more, lifting him from the soiled floor.

"Do you love me now," Youko crooned, devilish smile wavering with arousal. "My Suuichi. My lovely, sweaty, perfect Suuichi." The boy tottered towards him, tears still raining down his face. "Darling," he purred, "I gave you ecstasy, and you give me tears. Look at you, all red and white. Emeralds set in blood and bone." Suuichi listlessly moved, dirty hands slipping on the desk's surface, mussing the assignments lying unfinished on top of it.

"... done ... with me," he whispered, ghostly voice a shell. "Please," he finished, too tired to spare his dignity.

"Remember what I have stolen from you this night, Suuichi," he whispered. A lilting smile locked green eyes. "You are a treasure to be kept only by me."

A hand shot out from the mirror and crushed Kurama to blood warm lips.

...

-Villain


End file.
